


“What I'm trying to ask is, did anything ever happen between you two?”

by pishtaco



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pishtaco/pseuds/pishtaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between 9.14 and 9.15, a conversation about Cas between Dean and Sam, some various mishaps addressed, others straightened out. It should be totally in-line with canon, and for that to be possible, it's up to you to make your mind up over whether or not Dean is telling the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“What I'm trying to ask is, did anything ever happen between you two?”

   “Dean?”  
   “Yeah?”  
   “What do you – how are things with you and Cas?”  
   “What? They're fine. What d'you mean?”  
   “Just – do you think Cas is doing the right thing?”  
   Dean chewed the side of his lip and frowned, turning back to face the road as he headed the Impala down the highway.  
   “I don't know, man. When you're us, who knows what the right thing to do is. Cas ain't got much more of a clue. Hell, with his history, you'd probably be right to think he has the least of a clue. But, at least he's back with us now. Better than him working at the Gas-n-Sip. He was freaking out the customers, anyway.”  
   “He was working at a _Gas-n-Sip_!?”  
   “Yeah! Did I not tell you? Man, it was hilarious. He sure was dedicated though. He was actually sleeping in the back room.”  
   “Sleeping there? They allowed that?”  
   “I don't think the chick in charge knew. She was pretty flighty. Kind of accidentally made out she was asking Cas on a date, and then ditched him – I told you, right?”  
   “No?! Cas went on a date?”  
   “Nahh. Poor guy thought he was, but turns out she hadn't asked him out at all. She'd asked him to babysit.”  
  Sam snorted.  
   “Poor Cas.”  
   “Yeah. That guy's got no luck with the ladies. I guess he spent too much time around you.”  
   Dean turned to grin at his brother.  
   “Shut up,” Sam said.  
   “Bitch.”  
   Sam turned to face the window to hide his faint reaction of a smile. He wasn't quite ready to make up yet, and he wasn't going to say it.  
   Dean raised his eyebrows and turned to look out of his own window. The distinct feeling of ice returned to the car with the silence.  
   Sam had enjoyed the story about Cas, but he'd been distracted from his original aim. He wanted to ask Dean about the angel, just generally, after his conversation with Cas the previous week. Last time they'd had a conversation about him was when Dean was still fresh back from Purgatory and was seeing Cas everywhere: in his dreams, at the side of the road, at the window. He'd been racked with guilt, and pining for Cas, and Sam had realised Dean was hurting more than ever over his absence because he'd spent the better part of a year searching for the angel, in an environment more hostile than any other God had ever cooked up, and _still_ didn't have the guy safe and by his side, despite having found him, despite all his efforts. Sam actually felt lucky in those moments of realisation. He was no longer with Amelia by then, and a small part of him had already realised and accepted that he never would be again, but they'd had that year together, no interruptions. For Cas and Dean, it was always the adiós. Actually, it seemed like the greatest luxury they had in their relationship was simply whether or not they actually got to say adiós.  
   Oh, listen to him. Sam often found himself mentally treating Cas and Dean like they were actually an established couple, but who could blame him? He'd ~~suffered~~ experienced around 5 years of the most intense non-relationship he'd ever known. Admittedly, he'd never really been around many young couples, or couples in general, but he knew his estimations weren't misguided. Outsiders noticed. Heaven and Hell noticed (and Sam liked to pay attention when the two agreed). The only question was, did _they_ notice?  
   The first and last time Sam had taken a less direct approach in broaching the topic had been only 6 months or so after Cas had pulled Dean from Hell. They'd been in some diner in Iowa and Sam had been watching Dean actually feed Cas pie. It had been a mix of hilariously unbelievable because Dean never, _ever_ , shared his food, and a mix of do-they-know-they-are-in-public, to the point that Sam had felt it inappropriate for him to be there and had left to get more drinks from the counter in order to leave them to it. He was the third wheel in a date, but because of Cas' intensity, and the lack of actual official recognition of the relationship, plus the sheer amount of attraction between them, this was a particularly sexually charged date. After what looked like from the counter many inquiries over preference of pie flavour from Dean, and lots of sincere and earnest thought from Cas, and lots of grinning replaced with lip biting and hungry looks at his mouth back from Dean, all made even more tense by the fact that Cas had neglected personal space _again_ , the two had noticed Sam was gone. At the time, Sam had thought he'd only just caught on to something that had secretly being going on behind his back, and later that day when he and Dean were headed to a house to question a bereaved relative, he'd asked his brother straight up how long it'd been happening. Dean had had no idea what he was talking about.  
   To this day, Sam was still unconvinced that nothing, not even the slightest, not even the tinciest, tiniest thing had happened between them, and sometimes when it was just the three of them together, he wondered if there was extra weight behind the conversations they held that he wasn't aware of.  
   “Dean?”  
   “What?”  
   “What do you think of Cas?”  
   “What? What do I _think_ of him? Why are you asking this?”  
   “I – we – we never really talk about these things, y'know, and -”  
   “Yeah, there's a reason.”  
   “Dean, c'mon. Humour me.”  
   Dean rolled his eyes and sighed.  
   “I... I think Cas is... a weird little guy, who still doesn't really understand... much, who, cares a lot, who has... _changed_ a lot, who I like having around. He's just... our little Cas.” Dean stopped and looked over at his brother. “That okay?”  
   Sam nodded.  
   “Sure.”  
   “Why are you asking this -”  
   “Dean, I told you -”  
   “Oh, come on, really? When did you decide to volunteer as our in-house therapist?”  
   Sam sighed.  
   “Look, I want to know because I want to know where you two stand. Together.”  
   Dean turned to look at Sam again, sharply.  
   “What?”  
   “Dean, what I'm trying to ask is, did anything ever happen between you two?”  
   “Did... did anything ever _happen_?”  
   “Yes, how many times. Anything... romantic?”  
   “Oh, come on Sammy, I can't believe...”  
   “Well?”  
   Dean looked at his brother again.  
   “No.”  
   “Really?”  
   “Yes.”  
   A few seconds passed in silence.  
   “What about that time...”  
   “Sam.”  
   “What about that time, in Bobby's scrapyard, when the car alarm went off...”  
   “Oh, come on, we've been over this.”  
   “...and when we came to check it out, you were rolling around on the floor with like, a broken rib, and Cas was trying to help you and looking stricken, and the car was wailing away...”  
   “I told you, okay? I... insulted his coat, or, something, and he pushed me against the car really hard with his angel... super strength.”  
   “Sure. Because Cas _always_ immediately resorts to physical violence when you're a minor jerk to him. Which is often. And you're _always_ picking up on his outfits.”  
   “And what are you suggesting, Sam?”  
   “I'm saying... maybe... he wasn't pushing you against that car because he was angry...”  
   Dean turned in silence to face him.  
   “But because he was... well, maybe you weren't just talking -”  
   “Okay, Sam, I get the picture. Thanks. And, no.”  
   “Okay, fine. You were just talking. But what about that time -”  
   “What? Come on, I think we're done here.”  
   “What about that time when I heard you arriving back at the motel room, together, like, I don't know what time, Cas zapped you back in the room and then you whsipered in the dark for a while and then he zapped off again.”  
   “Okay, yeah, we had been out. I couldn't sleep, so I prayed to Cas, he came and got me, we went to a bar, had a few rounds, came back. End of.”  
   “Okay, fine. What about the time in the bathroom?”  
   “What?!”  
   “I came back from the shops, I heard you in the bathroom, then I realised Cas was in there too, and then I heard you telling him to 'hold it like this, move in and out', then Cas tried to say something but it sounded like he had something in his mouth, and then, you were like 'whoa whoa whoa, not too far back, you'll choke' and then he took whatever the fuck was in his mouth out and was like 'it's okay Dean, I don't have a gag reflex'. What the hell was that, Dean?”  
   “That was me teaching him how to _brush his teeth_ , Sam! What the fuck did you think it was?”  
   “I'm not gonna say what I thought it was, just like I didn't mention it at the time -”  
   “You thought, for like, 4 years now, that you had overheard Cas giving me a _blowjob_ , and you didn't mention it all this time?!”  
   “It was fucked up, Dean, all that happened in enough time it took for me to put my jacket back on and leave the room, and besides, so much shit was going on at the time, I wasn't gonna ask you. Or him.”  
   Dean was staring at Sam in horror.  
   “Dude, I cannot believe... all this time.”  
   “I had my doubts, okay, like, it seemed pretty weird, you giving someone a practical walk-through, and it sounded like your voices were coming from the same height, so...”  
   Dean slowly shook his head.  
   “I'd just woken up, I was brushing my teeth, he dropped in and wanted to know what I was doing, then he wanted to have a go, so I showed him.”  
   “Did you... did you use your brush?”  
   “What?”  
   “Your toothbrush... did you use it?”  
   “Uh, yeah, I think so.”  
   Sam pulled a sturgeon face and nodded.  
   “What? He was an angel, alright, not gonna be too fussy about the germs.”  
   “Sure, whatever.”  
   “Any other, potential sexual encounters you'd like to get confirmation about?”  
   “The car alarm, Dean. Even Bobby said-”  
   “Oh my God, Sam, will you drop it?”  
   Sam shrugged and turned to look out the window. This had been educational.


End file.
